


You Owe Me

by BiFrye (RafeAdler)



Series: The Good Times [2]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Blood, M/M, Violence, Weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:12:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7497114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RafeAdler/pseuds/BiFrye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another part of the Good Times. A good memory, though it has a few rough patches.</p>
<p>One of the worst parts of the boyfriend being an enemy is beating the shit out of each other. Yet they somehow always make it work in their favor.</p>
<p>And even if something goes wrong, is it really that hard to make it up to your love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Owe Me

**Author's Note:**

> otl I was bored sorry

Jacob Frye liked weapons.

Weapons.

Any kind.

Literally anything that was a weapon, Jacob Frye was bound to like it. But some he did like more than others. He was particularly fond of guns and his brass knuckles. They were like gifts from high heaven, an amazing creation that he wasn’t sure he would be able to survive without. He liked the sword canes he and Evie collected, as well as the kukris that Henry gave them. But guns and brass knuckles? They had a special place in his heart. The bias for them was a little embarrassing in certain situations.

This was not one of those situations.

His fist connected to the grunt’s jaw and he felt a crack against his fingers, satisfied to break the bone. His knuckles were red and scraped under his shining brass knuckles, which were covered in blood. The blades on the side, the spikes on it, it was a beautiful thing. Jacob gave it a butterfly kiss before having it collide into the side of the man’s face, knocking him straight down. This man was in the way of his kill. A grunt who was guarding some rich bloke who stole money right from the poor folks of Whitechapel. That was not something Jacob could ignore. Even if Evie ignored that stuff, Jacob never could. He gave the businessman multiple chances to get out of the area, to change his ways, to fix himself up and return the money he was stealing. That wasn’t happening. So Jacob was there to take care of the problem.

The man he killed, he glanced down and let out a sad sigh. Red clothes. Red everything, actually. Red and black.

“Great…”

Stepping into the building, Jacob looked around. It was offices, a nice little place on the edge of Whitechapel. The bastard was promising protective services to the poor, taking their money and giving them drunkards who did more damage than good. He had scams that looked as though they could pull the folks out of poverty, but it landed them in more debt than before. And here he was, living in a nice place, a nice business office.

“How dare he.”

And how dare…

“Oi! You!” Jacob saw men clad in red approach and he sighed.

“Are you serious?” He took a step back when a man swung a knife at him, leg shooting out and kicking the man’s legs together and causing him to topple. One of the others launched at him, a woman just behind raising her gun to shoot. Jacob just grabbed the man’s arm, twisting it and forcing him into the crossfire. The woman shot, and her partner fell with the bullet in his chest as Jacob pushed him aside.

The man who had fallen over was getting up, and Jacob used his trusty brass knuckles to knock him back down. One hit right to the head, blades of the knuckles sinking into skin, and he was down. The woman had reloaded her pistol and it was rising. But Jacob was faster. Slipping his own out, he did a shot right at her leg. It hit straight home and she got on her knees, and the next shot hit right in the forehead and she fell. Jacob reloaded, listening carefully. He could hear shuffling all above him. Couldn’t be helped. Everyone was alert of his presence.

There were deliberate steps above. He recognized those steps. It was strange to be so familiar with someone that you could recognize their footsteps. He wondered if that person recognized the sound of his fighting. The sound of his walking as he began up the stairs. The sound of his gun.

The sound of Jacob.

Two more men down as soon as Jacob got to the next floor. He could hear people putting up defenses. Interesting. Two more floors up and they were trying to block him off. Those methodical steps above him. He smiled a little. This was going to be interesting. This job was obviously important enough for the Big Man himself to be present.

Going to the window, Jacob forced one open and climbed out. The next floor was a little bit up, but he saw some uneven boards of the walls and was able to climb. Getting up to one of the windows, he peeked in before pushing that window open. He rolled into some desks, but the room was empty. Out in the hall there were some desks stacked up against the stairwell downstairs. That’s fine, he only needed to go up.

“Watch your head darling!”

Jacob flinched and managed to duck down just as a blade sunk into the doorframe. Looking up, he saw that nice outfit, blacks and reds. That grin. That lovely little mustache. The fire in Maxwell Roth’s eyes took Jacob’s breath away.

Jacob kept a kukri on his belt, and that was what he grabbed as he stepped back. The brass knuckles ended up in his pocket as his kukri caught Roth’s own blade. “Thank you for the warning, dear,” Jacob said with a grin.

“I don’t want my boyfriend losing his head, now do I?” Roth said with a laugh. He swung his blade around, but Jacob caught it again. “What are you doing here, I might ask? Is this what I was hired for?”

“You were hired to protect an idiot?” Jacob pressed a kiss to Roth’s cheek. “I have to say, this is low, even for you.”

“Oh, darling, you’re hilarious.”

Jacob backed up into a desk, barrelling over it as Roth brought his weapon down on it. “You need to hold still you little sparrow!” Jacob ran past him to the door, sliding into a new room. He hid behind a bookshelf, grinning to himself as Roth entered and looked around. “Darling? Where are you?”

Jacob figured he might as well take a shot as he stepped out, aiming carefully, and throwing his kukri. Rule number one of being enemies with your boyfriend - don’t aim for vitals or the face… or the dick. The kukri flew from his hand, ready to hit Roth right in the arm. But the Blighter was able to back up. And a crash. The kukri…

It went out the window.

They stood there, Jacob staring at the window and Roth laughing at him. “That was your brilliant plan?” Roth wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “Darling, you need to think before you-”

He just barely sidestepped the punch that Jacob threw his way. Brass knuckles on. Roth’s eyes were alight. “Drawing blood, eh?”

Close quarters was always a challenge with Roth. He was very strong and quick, Jacob on his toes. He had to stay on offense, getting as many punches as he could. One of the blades on the side his brass knuckles did scrape Roth’s arm, and the sound of cloth tearing and blood dripping from the wound made him grin. “Drawing blood.”

Roth’s blade got him on the side, but it was light. Only a small cut, blood dribbling out of it at a slow pace. “Cheap shot,” Jacob taunted. He managed to get Roth pinned in a corner. Good. That was how it needed to be.

Roth just smirked, a knowing smile that Jacob always loved but  _ hated _ whenever they dueled. His little sword caught against Jacob’s hand, blade digging into his palm. Jacob bit back a cry of pain, jerking back. As he did, his brass knuckles got wrenched from his grasp by the blade, and off they came. Both men looked surprised, but before Jacob could reach or Roth stop moving, the brass knuckles went flying. Now two windows were broken as the brass knuckles were out of sight.

“Max!” Jacob ran to the window, looking out the window and whining. “Those were my favorite!!” He looked at Roth with sadness. “What the fuck, man!”

“I didn’t mean to do that, it wasn’t on purpo-”

Roth was unconscious when Jacob’s fist hit his face. Jacob rubbed his knuckles, looking down at his boyfriend who was on the floor. He picked him up and laid him comfortably, pressing a little kiss to his cheek. Going to one of the offices, he wrote a little note.

_ Okay you deserved that, Max, don’t say you didn’t. Now I gotta either find it or get a new one. Thanks a lot. I’m mad at you now, this’ll be very difficult for you to make up for it. I love you, though. Our date still on tomorrow? _

Games were over. Jacob felt a little bad he just knocked his boyfriend out cold. But that was the price of being enemies with the person you were in love with. Hopefully Roth was getting enough in compensation for this job. Jacob would slide him some money if it wasn’t enough. He went up to the last floor, killed Roth’s remaining men, and then his target. It felt surprisingly bitter. The thought of Roth unconscious one floor below with only a little note made his stomach turn a little, but he had things he needed to do. Hopefully Roth would understand.

As he left, he stopped by Roth one last time, wincing a little when he realized that Roth’s eye was starting to swell and look bad. That wouldn’t look pretty for a while. No wonder they talked about not going for the face. Oops.

Jacob removed his hat, placing it on Roth’s head before leaving out the window. He could use a drink.

Unfortunately, one drink turned into many. And Jacob didn’t realize how late it was as he managed not to fall getting on the train. Evie wasn’t there, likely off doing something with her dear Mister Green. Jacob stumbled to his sofa. His favorite place. The pillows were propped and neat. Evie must have cleaned it up. Only…

There was a little box on it, a note folded neatly. Jacob sat down pulling them into his lap and he opened the paper. It took a bit for his eyes to adjust enough to actually read.

_ While I’m not the happiest that you punched me in the face, I suppose I deserved it. You lost two weapons in our little fight. I had plenty of compensation, but instead of spending it on my own little pleasures, I decided to focus on yours. You were looking at this on our last date. Enjoy. _

 

_ P.S. our date tomorrow is on or I will skin you alive, darling. _

 

In the box was a beautiful, shining brass knuckle. It was smooth and jagged, curling hooks on the sides, spikes and a smooth handle. Jacob slid it onto his hand. It fit like a glove. It gleamed and shimmered, and it was absolutely beautiful. Against his palm, something felt a little odd, and he checked the grip and his cheeks grew hot and his heart skipped a beat.

_ For My Darling Jacob _


End file.
